Drowning Lessons
by X - my harlequin romance
Summary: It's Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge era. Gerard's Drink causes romancitc problems with Frank. Will there friend ship become More or will it burn to ashes?
1. Chapter 1

**Drowning Lessons**

MCR✖ s l a s h ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ (Warning: Some Lemons Involved!)

Written By X - my harlequin romance and Hitodeman

TAKE IT EASY

"First with your hands, then with your mouth A downpour of sweat, damp cotton clouds I was a fool, you were my friend We made it happen You took off your clothes, left on the light You stood there so brave, you used to be shy Each feature improved, each movement refined And eyes like a showroom"• • • P L O T 

Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge era. Gerard is not only struggling with alcoholism, but he also has a few other nasty habits that worry his bandmates. While Frank only wants him to get better, he's starting to enjoy just how close his friend gets to him when he isn't sober - and is afraid he might not stop himself from taking advantage of the situation. Meanwhile, what they have going on might disrupt the band dynamics, and tour is resuming in less than two weeks. What is there to do?

• • • C H A R A C T E R S 

GERARD WAY played by X - my harlequin romance

FRANK IERO played by Hitodeman

**F R A N K I E R O -**

Mid-July; the air felt heavy all across Jersey, so hot it made the sweat instantly pearl on Frank's bare arms. The man had to peel them off the leather couch every now and then from fear they'd get permanently stuck to the fabric. His mind had been shifting between the urge to light up a smoke and the knowledge that it would only contribute to the heat for the past half hour, pretty much for as long as he had been awake. The single bed in his house was occupied by Gerard, who had showed up the previous night and crashed on it without the need to ask. It was customary at this point, since Frank was the only one in the band who owned a house all to himself. Despite spending every nanosecond in each other's presence on tour, the Way brothers often showed up at Frank's house to spend the night when the band was on break, whether they were looking for quiet or fun.

Frank had been half-asleep in the living room, texting Ray about whatever show airing on Discovery Channel, when Gerard had unexpectedly visited him. They had barely exchanged a few words, but he remembered noting a strong smell of alcohol - less like whiskey, more like detergent - on his breath, confirmed by his slurred speech and hesitant step. His friend left the bedroom a few times that night, always for the bathroom (vomit, rinse mouth, repeat) but Frank's slumber had been too deep for him to hear. It was just as well; Frank was the kind of guy to get overly concerned about his friends, and would have spent the night holding back Gerard's hair and cleaning up his puke. Unavoidable.

"Holy_fuck_ my back hurts," he complained to himself, stretching and almost falling off the couch in the process.

**G E R A R D W A Y**

The vile taste of post alcohol lingered in Gerard's mouth as he stood from the toilet and reached for the sink faucet. Used to the cycle, Gerard turned the knob and brought the icy cold water to his lips with his hands and swished it in his mouth for what it seemed to be the fifth time this night. The complete flavor wasn't gone but at least any remains had vanished. He wipe the spit surround his mouth with the sleeve of his black jean jacket and stared at himself in the mirror. He was sobering up but he still felt like complete shit as did the reflection looked in the mirror. Gerard sighed disappointedly at his bag eyed self, shaking his head knowingly as he dragged his hand across the mirror to hide away his face. Turning away, Gerard walked out of the bathroom and saw his best friend struggling to sleep on the couch. Damn, it was hot in here but Gerard didn't think to take off his jacket. Instead he walked over the leather lump as called a couch and laid on top of his miniature friend, belly down. "Fwankie... Can you make me a shammich... pleasheee..." Gerard grunted slurring his 'S's.

He made himself heavy to squish Frank underneath him so he would wake up. He was pretty hungry but was too lazy to just walk to the kitchen and get something out of the fridge. Besides, that's what friends are for, right? If Frankie ever got drunk, Gerard would be the there to make him sandwiches. Okay, maybe not really because Gerard would be drunk along with him. But still, Gerard would any favor for Frank if he needed to. He rolled of the couch holding Frank by the waist and dragging him down with him. With a hard thud, Gerard landed on the ground on his back with Frank on top of him. "Haha, Frank, look. Now I'm a shammich…" Gerard laughed spreading his arms out.

**F R A N K I E R O **Frank wasn't certain just when or how he had drifted back to sleep, but he did know it hadn't been on his living room floor, and even less on top of his best friend. The smell of alcohol, aside from triggering a strong impression of déjà vu, almost made him question if he had been the one drinking and not remembering falling asleep in such an embarrassing situation, with his nose buried in the crook of Gerard's neck.

"Oh man, it's not - " he started, but soon realized he had nothing to justify or apologize for. "Did you say something about a sandwich?" He pushed Gerard's hair off his reddened sleep-deprived eyes, not yet considering a more comfortable and less awkward position. "You're still drunk, aren't you? You're not even hung over, you're...still out." He patted the man's cheek rather disapprovingly. He wasn't exactly mad at Gerard (how could he ever be?) but seeing him sober was becoming a rare occurrence these days, reserved to special occasions and family dinners. While Frank wasn't exactly moderate with alcohol either, he was a party drinker. Gerard drank when something was wrong, like a compulsive nervous habit - and that was what worried Frank. Maybe it was good for the mind, but it was still terrible for the liver.

**G E R A R D W A Y**

The touch of Frank's hands brush the hair out of Gerard's eyes, making the still drunken singer scrunch his nose up. Squinting one of his eyes so the other could have a clearer vision on his friend, Gerard licked his lip. "So! And yeah, I said that wanted you to make me a sammich." Gerard yawned, stretching out under Frankie. He liked the weight that pressured him onto the floor. Made him feel like he was more connected to the world. Frank was just like a giant Teddy bear that you can win at carnivals for knocking down bottles with a baseball. He was so cute sometimes. Gerard did a bunny twitch with his nose and brought in his stretched out arms, wrapping them around Frank's tiny waist. He squeezed him tight, arching his back and landing them both on their sides. "But Frankie, you're so cute... Like sweaty doll. Meow~ I don't ever want to let you go." Gerard cooed, holding Frank's head against his chest and petting his hair roughly. He moved his legs up the floor and pinned Frank's thighs between his. Frank was cuddly. "Night night, puppy…" Gerard whispered, drifting back to sleep.

**F R A N K I E R O **

"Gee, no," Frank grunted, and sighed. "Don't do this to me..." He tried to slide out of Gerard's grip, but without much success. Not that he tried that hard - his friend was kind of warm, and it wasn't the uncomfortable kind of heat he had been trying to fight all night. Their legs awkwardly tangled, it felt more like a contagious fever than a seasonal temperature raise. He tugged on the waistband of his boxers (that were falling dangerously low) and sighed again against Gerard's chest, giving in and loosely wrapping an arm around him. "I can't believe you just called me a doll and a puppy. That's like, hello unmanly."

He wasn't sure his friend was conscious enough to hear him, and even less listen, but he figured it couldn't hurt. "You shouldn't drink so much. It's going to screw you up someday." He ran his fingers through the man's hair, very protectively. "I can get you water, or coffee, or whatever. Aspirin, too. And that sandwich you wanted. You need to sober up. You know Mikey is probably going to come looking for you in the morning, and I'm pretty sure you don't want him to see you like this." Under his breath, he added, "I don't like seeing you like this either."

**G E R A R D W A Y**

Gerard was pretty much done for. He just wanted to stay lying on the floor wrapped around his best friend and go to sleep. But Frank insisted other wise. The man ran his fingers through Gerard's messed up, possible greasy, hair and spoke softly to him. Gerard kept his eyes closed but bought his finger over Frankie's lips. "Sh sh sh sh shhhhh... It's Gee's shleepy time…" Gerard hushed Frank up with his cold finger tip. It was humidly hot in the room but Gerard's finger tips and nose seem to stay frozen. He smiled manically, buried his face into Frankie's hair. "And who said we have to be manly all the time? Besides, from this angle, you look like a puppy. Like if you were me and I was you, I'm pretty sure you would say the same thing." The drunken man breathed in his friend's aroma and laid still with his breathe still held in. Slowly exhaling, Gerard loosened his hold on Frank and smack him his butt. "Now go make me that sammich, boy." Gerard released in a failed ranchero accent. He sat up, leaning against the couch and ruffled out his hair, petting it down so it covered his eyes. He didn't want Frank to him like this.

**F R A N K I E R O **

Gerard did have a point - and it wasn't like he was manly all the time, far from it. And his friend did look kind of like a puppy, a little beagle with droopy eyes even, with the way he nuzzled Frank's head. The term "puppy love" of course came to mind as they were practically curled up against each other, and it wasn't exactly inaccurate (minus the whole romantic implications, because that's a friends thing, not a thing thing); there was some sort of tenderness in the man's drunken gestures that Frank didn't recognize, but definitely didn't dislike. It was just nice, the same way a warm bed was nice, or a cup of hot chocolate was nice.

Apparently Frank wasn't allowed to think about it for too long, because Gerard promptly smacked his ass and released him. He sat up halfheartedly. "Sammich," he repeated, mimicking Gerard's accent, and a smile drew itself on his lips. "Alright. I'll be right back. And you better not fall asleep, or I swear I'm going to scream so loud you'll need new eardrums. You've been warned." Empty threat, but he knew from experience that drunk people weren't exactly rational.

He got up and headed for the kitchen, where he hoped he could find anything suitable for a sandwich. The was a bacon-flavored tofu patty somewhere in his fridge but he wasn't certain of the expiration date, so he dropped the idea. Thankfully Mikey had brought cold turkey the last time he had showed up (because, quote, Frank has "nothing edible that doesn't taste or smell like rubber"), and that was good enough. He toasted the bread, spread the Dijon mustard, cut the slices of tomato... It made him feel like he was packing a kid's lunch before school, and the thought made him laugh quietly to himself.

"There you go," Frank announced, making his way back to the living room with the sandwich and a plastic cup filled with cold water. Gerard might need lots of it.

**G E R A R D W A Y**

As he let all his weight press him against the leather couch, Frank sat up as well and untangled their legs. The man made fun of Gerard speech before leaving off to the kitchen, threatening to yell at the drunken man if he fell asleep. Gee didn't like yelling much in this stage, especially if the yelling came from Frankie, it made him feel like he did something wrong. And the matter of the fact was, Gerard was doing something wrong.

Gerard rubbed his mouth and wiped his nose with his uncomfortably sticky hand. The heat was make him sweat profusely and the booze wasn't help it anymore. It help at the moment though. Alcohol was become his best friend. And no worries to Frank because it also seemed to bring them closer together as well.

After forcibly keeping his eyes from shutting closed, Gerard stretched himself out on the floor again and began to roll himself back and forth. If he didn't get to sleep, Gerard would need to do something else because his hyper activeness would kick in and staying in one single place, with nothing to do was like hell to Gerard. Rolling on the ground, Gerard found the hat he was wearing before he came into Frank's house. He couldn't remember why it was on the floor though. Wasn't he wearing it just five seconds ago? Wait, no because Frank just ran his fingers through Gerard's hair. The disappearance of his hat was really working him but after two minutes of hard thinking, his head started to hurt. So Gerard just grabbed the hat and pulled it over his face as he kept rolling.

He stopped mid-roll on his side when he heard Frank's voice saying he had the sandwich. "Yush! Meh sammich!" Gerard exclaimed through his teeth, his lips curled up. Gerard sat up and took the plate and cup out of Frankie's hands. He placed the food on the ground and picked up the turkey smelling sandwich to his mouth. With a bite, Gerard flashed a goofy grin and began to hum while he was chewing. "Sammich, sammich, sandmmmmmmich.…" Gerard liked to say 'Sammich' instead of 'Sandwich'. Who needed double 'u's anyways? Ha, Gerard did. Or else he would be 'Gerard Ay'. "Haha, Ay! Ay, ay, ay.…" Gerard laughed out in different accents while he was eating. With a gulp of his water, the messy man looked up at Frank and smiled, wiping away any water remain around his mouth with his sleeve. He patted the empty space next him and motioned Frank to sit with him. "Come, Fwankie... Don't leave me lonely." He baby talked out with his mouth in a puppy dog pout.

**F R A N K I E R O **Frank sighed and complied, sitting next to Gerard, who shifted closer to his friend as he ate. He had to admit he was mildly amused by the man's baby talk and pouty faces because, well, it was kind of cute. But even though it did make him smile, he couldn't help being taken over by some sort of weird irrational melancholy, like the Gerard by his side is there yet very, very far away. He silently wondered if it was possible for alcohol to chemically alter someone's brain and get them stuck in a permanent drunken state, but he knew he was only making it up because it scared him. Gerard...Gerard had a way of scaring him.

Absentmindedly, he lifted Gerard's hat, very slightly, just so he could have a better look at his face. He went to touch the man's flushed cheek, but quickly remembered that thing about never petting a Gerard when he was eating - unless that was only valid for real puppies? Either way he didn't risk it, and only studied him with fondness in his gaze and a smile on the corner of his lips. "I think," he said, puffing his chest proudly, "you appreciate my cooking skills. Maybe when we get too old to be in a band, I'll open a snack bar somewhere and make sandwiches." He was rambling a bit, but he only wanted an excuse to make conversation.

After a moment, he forced himself to ask a real question. "Why are you always drunk?" His tone wasn't accusatory. If anything, it was sad. "It's getting out of hand lately. We...well, me and the guys, we've talked about it. Maybe you should consider talking to someone, you know? No pressure, but...yeah. We're worried." He put a hand on Gerard's thigh. "I'm worried. There's counseling for that kind of, uhm, problem. And maybe you could benefit from that." His shoulders stiffened; he was genuinely afraid he might have angered his friend, despite him looking so naive and peaceful.

**G E R A R D W A Y**

Gerard simpered like a child with sandwich stuffed in his cheeks as he friend had accepted his request to sit by him. He felt Frank's vibe growing closer to him as he ate but looked pass it. Right now was lunch time. Well, maybe it's early breakfast. Or late dinner? Who knew what time it was now, Gerard just knew he was hungry and he was grateful his friend had made him something to munch on. Still chewing, Gerard muffled out, "Thank you…" , nuzzling Frank's shoulder, which seemed to be inches closer than what is was seventeen seconds ago. He lifted his head and straightened it up again, taking another bite as Frank pulled up his hat away from covering his face. Gerard felt Frankie's second guessing hand brush itself against his cheek but quickly retreat to its former position.

Slightly casting an odd glance at the man that stare at him with kind eyes, Gerard continue on and sipped from the cup the same man had given him. Frank began to talk about opening a sandwich shop when they were too old to play in a band. That wasn't for years but he guessed it was nice to plan ahead. Frank wasn't the best cook ever but his food was decent, or at least his sandwich were. Gerard swallowed a mouthful and just as he was about to comment on idea, Frank asked that question Gerard hope would still wonder in his friend's head and stay there. He didn't sound mad or anything, but just a tad disappointed. What friend wouldn't be?

Gerard stared aimlessly at the floor beyond his hands that held his sandwich and bit the inner side of his lower lip. He didn't want to answer. Of all things Gerard would tell Frank, his best friend, why but his body wouldn't utter a word about it. "I drink to forget the reason why I drink. And so far it's working out because I can't remember a damn thing." Gerard answered in monotone, not really caring if his words made any sense. That was all he could bring himself to say. He didn't make any eye contact with Frank nor did he change his vacant visage as he spoke. He just didn't want to talk about it.

After a couple of moments, Gerard felt the need to change the subject in order to by pass the sufficiently awkward conversation that both wish wasn't an item to talk about. Taking the last bite of his Frank-made sandwich, Gerard sucked on the tip of his fingers to get the crumbs off and exhaled heavily. "You know that snack bar thing, isn't such a bad idea. We can have local bands play gigs there and we can help them spread the music out to other people." Gerard suggested, hoping it would get Frankie's mind off of his drink. At least let him know it was subject Gee wasn't comfortable talking about as of the moment.

**F R A N K I E R O **Frank felt Gerard's breath ghost against his neck. He couldn't pinpoint exactly how it had happened, but he was starting the feel like the usual (and perhaps necessary) barrier between him and his best friend had gradually dissolved as they spoke. It was strange, how Frank was extremely aware of his presence, while the other man's sense were numbed down. Ironic, even. "Better than a lobotomy to forget," he joked, the words getting caught in his throat. He patted the couch behind him for his pack of cigarettes, but gave up since they weren't in reach.

"It's always about the music with you," Frank then commented with a grin. It was comforting to see that, even with more alcohol than blood in his veins, he was still his old self. "That's what I always liked. You're, like. You're beyond passionate. Your faith in the band is what keeps us guys together." He noticed Gerard still had mustard on the back of his hand. Without thinking much of it, he wiped it off with his thumb, and linked their fingers. He squeezed slightly as some form of reassurance, letting him know they didn't have to talk but that he'd always be there to provide comfort regardless.

**G E R A R D W A Y**

Gerard half chuckled at Frank's joke as he looked back on his friend with goofish smile. Frank said something about his commitment to the band that made Gerard chuckle softly and shake his head knowingly. "Of course, what is music if you don't believe and have faith in what you produce? Shit. Yeah that's right, shit." He said starting to feel a tad bit normal. Frank always seemed to know how to help. His words were rarely in anger and he knew how to take care of Gerard when he was completely out.

Gerard followed his friend's hand as it interlocked with his. The touch was soft and reassuring, bit like home. But this wasn't even his home. This was frank. And Frank was looking pretty cute at this angle. With a coy smirk, Gerard leaned in close to Frank's face and planted a noisy peak on Frankie's cheek. "Thank you Frankie... For being so awesome." Gerard said in a yawning voice. He was really tired and the snack Frankie had given him was making him really drowsy.

"I think it's time that I go back my nappage. Wants to be nice and fresh for tomorrow's morning hangover." Gerard laughed in a sleepy tone as he sat up and then stretched out on the floor. He positioned Frank's legs so he could sleep on his lap and took off his hat. He rested his head on Frank's thigh and snuggled his self nicely. "Night night puppy."

**F R A N K I R E O**

"Hey, no problem. I like being awesome," Frank whispered back, and mentally slapped himself for not coming up with a better reply. He couldn't explain why the warmth of Gerard's lips lingered on his cheek. "Night night Gee," he murmured, mimicking his friend. As the man dozed off, he pressed his fingers against the nape of his neck, gently rubbing the skin.


	2. Chapter 2

**F R A N K I R E O**

Just as he was about to fall asleep as well, Frank snapped back to full consciousness when his cellphone vibrated from between the cushions on the couch. "Fuuuuck," he complained under his breath, grunting and stretching his free arm to grab it. "Frank Iero," he answered, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. He glanced at the time flashing on the DVD player. "Brian, it's fucking five in the morning. What do you want?" A silence. "If you're kidding me, I swear I'm going to kill you." He smiled slowly. "Yeah, of course. That's because he's with me right now. Sleeping. You bet I'll tell him, he'll love it."

Once he had hung up, Frank carefully lowered his head and planted a kiss right above Gerard's ear. It seemed natural at the time. "Gee-boy. Hey. We're going on tour at the end of the week." He chuckled quietly. "Don't panic. It's all planned out."

**G E R A R D W A Y**

Gerard fell dead asleep before he heard anything more from Frank and started dreaming about a giant piece of buttered toast attacking Japan. It wasn't so strange since everything seems to be attacking Japan now-a-days. Gerard did a bunny twitch with his nose hearing a distant buzzing. Grunting softly, Gerard chose to ignore it and go back to sleep. Curling against Frank felt right and warm like he was supposed to be there, so why spoil the moment just to move away from the sound? As fast as he fell back into his dreamland, he came right out of it as Gerard felt a fuzzy tinglely sensation near his ear.

"Geesus, Frankie! That's my tickle turn on spot!" The touch sent Gerard to spazz out into a sit, anxiously rubbing where the kiss was planted. His face turned crimson as the feeling still lingered, then realizing what Frank just said. "Tour?" Gerard said in a tone that would be presented in a little boy's voice he was just told he was going to Disneyland. He leaned on the couch running his hand threw his black hair. "Where are we going?"

**F R A N K I R E O**

Frank snorted at the face Gerard made. "We're going to play a few" - he tried to say 'intimate', but for some reason the word got caught in his throat when Gerard inadvertently pushed his palm against Frank's inner thigh in his attempt to sit up - "small venues. We're doing one in Jersey, two in New York. With 30 Seconds to Mars. It's a pretty sweet deal." He grinned. "Brian wanted you to know first, but your phone was off so he figured you'd be with me. He knows you too well."

Normally Frank would have said something along the lines of 'this calls for proper celebration!' and grabbed some wine, but it was completely out of question considering the circumstances. "I'm glad to be stoked about this," the man said instead. "I mean, we've only had a short break but I'm still excited about touring. I must love my job." Love his job, that he did - he fed off the crowd's energy, every night, and delivered an impressively aggressive on-stage performance. Without mentioning the absolute lack of personal boundaries... The thought made his blood pulse through his temples. He sank his teeth in his bottom lip, a bit ashamed and definitely set on not questioning his own motives any further.

**G E R A R D W A Y**

"Don't laugh at me!" Gerard chimed lightly punching Frank in the arm, trying to be mad at Frankie but that was something Gerard just couldn't do. Gerard laughed his failure attempt to hold a small grudge and shook out his hair. "Yeah, I don't think knowing me too much is a good thing. At least for my part. Sounds stalkerish." Gerard chuckled making bear like references with his arms. Why bears? Well Gerard was not quite sure. When he said the word 'stalkerish', bears suddenly appeared in his head. "Thirty Seconds To Mars, you say? Damn, that _is_ a pretty sweet deal. They have kickass songs and Jared Leto is pretty hot himself." Gerard was sobering up more, feeling like his good ol' Gerardy self. He glanced over at his friend beside him with a puzzled look. What was on his mind? Gerard shrugged it off and started at his feet to get up. 'Well I think we should celebrate!" Gerard chimed walking towards the kitchen. Gerard maybe be stupid at times but he was smart enough to know it was _not_ time to start drinking again. Stopping at the refrigerator, Gerard remember that Frank had no food. _Shit_. Oh well, they would have to go out to celebrate. Gerard looked at the clock on the microwave and grunted. Fucking five.

Gerard left the kitchen, grabbing an empty envelope on the counter along the way and came back to the living room. "New tour! Hell yeah!" Gerard yelled, ripping the envelope into tiny little scraps and toss them in the air over Frankie. Flipping his hair out of his face, Gerard held out his hand for Frankie to get up. "Well that was a fail of a celebration. Let's go to get breakfast somewhere."

**F R A N K I R E O**

Frank felt a weird sting in his stomach, the kind that's like an itch you can't scratch, when Gerard called Jared Leto "hot". Granted, it was just their thing, to call blokes "hot" or "fucking sexy, man", whether it was jokingly or with envious undertones. But the way Gerard had said it, really simply, devoid of that usual playfulness, made it sound like it meant something entirely different, something Frank wouldn't like. (Although, granted, Jared Leto was pretty hot.) "You don't need to look that far to see hot guys," he told him, puffing his chest. "You have a pretty hot band already."

Frank laughed whole-heartedly when Gerard threw the makeshift confetti above their heads, most of them landing in his hair. "You're fucking crazy." He took a firm grip on the hand offered to him, and got on his feet. He stumbled awkwardly against his friend. Confetti fell out of his hair and stuck to the man's shirt, along his clavicle. "Uhm wait, you have a - " He picked the piece of paper off Gerard's chest, feeling uncharacteristically uneasy as he did so. Too close. He couldn't really look up at Gerard's face, so he took a hesitant step back and swallowed. "Yeah, uh - breakfast. My treat. Anywhere you want." He scratched his lower back. "Although we should get dressed first, you know."

**G E R A R D W A Y**

The laughter Frank produce could bring nothing more a smile to Gerard's face. After tonight's disappointment, it was nice to see that he could make his friend laugh. "Like Hell I am!" Gerard responded proudly when Frank called him crazy. As Frank jumped to his feet, Gerard held him by the shoulder from falling backwards when he bumped into him. Little white confetti's blew out of Frank's hair and onto Gerard shirt. Frankie made business to clean Gerard off. Frank's face was millimeter away from his actual body that Gerard could feel his breath as Frank took the piece of paper off his collarbone. Stepping slightly back at coincidently the same time as Frank did, Gerard sprout a awkward grin with puzzled eyes.

"Oh, you're buying? Awesome. I want waffles." Gerard chuckled shrugging off the scene. He eyed Frank up then down then eyeing his own attire on his way back up. "Well I don't see what's wrong with what we look like now but if you want is to change then so be it." Gerard said in a whatever-you-want kind of tone lifting his shoulders.

Gerard walked into Frank's room again, passing the dreaded mirror untie bathroom. Gerard always had clothes to spare in Frank's house in case he sleep over or just left it there. Though he did love to where the short man's clothing from time to time. "Come on Frank, get your ads in here and change so can get my waffles." He yelled out the door as he rumbled through Frank's closet for something 'decent' to wear.

**F R A N K I R E O**

"Maybe you," Frank muttered, "but most places have a 'no shirt means no service' policy." He grimaced at the thought of putting any layer of clothing over his chest, already sick of the heat. He grabbed a clean - well, not exactly dirty t-shirt on his way to the bathroom and stared at his reflection for a moment. "What the fuck do you think you're doing...?" he whispered to himself.

Gerard calling out for him brought him back to reality. He splashed cold water on his face and put on his shirt. He quickly realized it was his friend's - it was definitely one size too big and he was pretty certain anything with a Batman logo wasn't part of his wardrobe. Still, he kept it on since Gerard would have (and previously had) done the same thing.

When he stepped out of the room, he immediately caught sight of Gerard, shirtless with his back turned to him. Apparently years of sharing a dressing room were a distant memory; he stood there, staring dumbly, and silently chewed on his bottom lip to avoid saying something stupid. He couldn't tell what was wrong with him - heck, this was Gerard. Gerard and his...soft...pale...back. Fuck. Maybe he should have slept that one out.

**G E R A R D W A Y**

Gerard found a decent simply black shirt in Frank's closet and sniff it to see if it at least didn't smell like dog. Eh, it wasn't too bad, so Gerard dropped it onto Frank's bed and slipped of his jacket. Just as he pulled off his own shirt, Gerard sense a stare casting on him. Turning around, he found Frankie in a distant daze then acknowledged that his friend was wearing his shirt. With a small snort, Gerard walked up to his friend, still shirtless. "_Damn_, my shirt looks pretty fucking sexy on you." He chimed slyly, taking the bottom ends of the shirt and teasingly played with them up and down.

"It's actually making me quite jealous." Gerard stated a bit wickedly, eyeing Frank up from his lower torso. When he met the shorter mans eyes, Gerard's narrowed his hazels in amusement.

"Take it off."

**F R A N K I R E O**

Frank swallowed. "I - what?" He wasn't sure what Gerard was doing; or rather, how much he wasn't doing yet implying. The shorter man looked straight into his eyes, completely clueless and confused. "You want me to...take it off?" he repeated, making sure he had heard correctly. His friend's expression didn't falter. It was unusual, and he could have sworn Gerard wasn't inebriated anymore. Maybe he was looking for things that weren't really there. After all, they did joke a lot and called each other 'sexy' all the time. (It had never been followed by a request to strip but hey, there's a first time for everything, right?)

The man smirked, seemingly catching on to what he supposed what some sort of dare. "You're jealous? Seriously?" he asked, one eyebrow raised doubtfully. He briefly considered making a vulgar joke about how he was probably jealous of the shirt, but refrained for the sake of decency. "If you want me to take it off," he continued, smiling defiantly, "make me."

**G E R A R D W A Y**

Gerard loved the cluelessness in his friend's face. It was... Cute. He bit down in the tip of his tongue as Frank looked up into his eyes. Gerard knew what he wanted and he could see that Frank wanted to play games as well. He knew Frank wouldn't let him have 'his shirt back' so easily.

The cockiness of Frank's eyes intrigued Gerard as did the comment that followed. 'Make me', he said, a comment that would only echo in Gerard head. He accepted the challenge given to him with a smirk. "Like hell I will." Gerard responded, tackling Frankie onto the unmade bed behind him. Gerard ignore any struggling that shorter man did, focusing on only one thing; to get frank out of his batman shirt.

He straddled his friend, digging his up the shirt and pulled it off in a staggered movement. He took the shirt and rested in on his shoulder, behind the neck. "You know I was going to win, so why even play the game?" Gerard spoke coy, looking down at Frankie's tiny body. So soft... And smooth with beautiful art marked upon it like a canvas. How Gerard want so badly to ornament it with his own creations. With his own hands.

Gerard has had these desires for a long time but as of now, he had no idea why they were piling on his so strongly.

Gerard's eyes were distant as he lower his torso to gently lay on top of Frank's as he spread out his friend's arms with his own hands, intertwining their fingers. "Can we play another game?" Gerard teased in a huffed whisper, bring his mouth to the end of Frank jaw line.

**F R A N K I R E O**

Frank's overconfident facade crumbled in a nanosecond once Gerard had him pinned to the mattress. He did struggle, aggressively even, since Gerard was significantly taller and heavier than him. He pushed his thumbs underneath the man's clavicles in an attempt to free himself, but without much success. It didn't take long before he was forced to surrender and had his (erm, Gerard's) shirt taken off none too delicately.

"You," Frank started, the word getting caught in his throat as he was too focused on Gerard's body against him. "You could have been more of a gentleman and let me win, hey." When the man lowered himself onto him and whispered against his cheek, however, it became very clear Frank wasn't ever going to get the upper hand of...whatever it was they were doing. He squeezed Gerard's hands slightly, exhaling. Part of him wanted to warn him it was a terrible idea, and that insignificant amount of teasing was already making him uncomfortable in more than one way. It was bound to make everything horribly awkward - especially considering the position Frank was in.

The rational side of his brain, however, had apparently chosen that time to take a holiday. "Yes?" was the answer that came out, weak and hesitant. He however forced himself to steady his gaze and tried to appear undisturbed - as much as humanly possible, that is - by Gerard's proximity and warmth. "Anything."

**G E R A R D W A Y**

A greedy smirk creped upon lips as the man behind accepted his initiation for a new game. Surely, Frank knew the buzz from the alcohol had faded away, but Gerard was completely intoxicated by the moment right now. What was he getting himself into? Well it seemed that Gerard did really care what was happening. He just went along with the flow.

Looking down at Frank, Gerard released his right hand from Frank's grip and moved any stray from the smaller man's face. "I promise I'll let you win this time." He lightly kissed Frank on the forehead. Then his neck. Between his breast. Right below his navel, with a little nip as a sneak attack. Spying move his hand to the opening of Frank's hands, Gerard sent libidinous eyes up at the other. Biting his lip, Gerard looked at what he was buttoning and snickered. "Well, hello batman, it seems we meet again." Gerard had a sexy laugh going on until he actually realize why he said. Did he just call Frank's dick… Batman?

Gerard started laughing idiotically at his choice of words and got off Frank, shaking his head knowingly. "Wooh, man, I say the stupidest things." Gerard laughed, wiping his eyes from calling it batman. Damn. Gerard looked down at Frank on the bed. "I'm done with my game. You can zip up now." Gerard said patting Frank's crotch. He grabbed Frank's shirt that he was going to put on and toss his shirt to frank. "I'm hungry. Can we go eat waffles now?"

**F R A N K I R E O**

Gerard's kisses and touches sent jolts through Frank's entire body; he punctuated each of them with low, quiet inhaling, his breath hitching in his throat. It was anything but fair, how his friend could control him so easily, render him weak and powerless and absolutely unable to think straight - in every sense of the word. He barely paid any attention to how his dick had apparently been baptized without his consent. By the time Gerard's fingers were on the zipper of his pants, Frank was absolutely certain it was happening, whatever "it" was, and was so caught in the moment that he didn't formulate the slightest attempt to protest.

When Gerard stopped, however, he regained his senses almost immediately. He shot him a look of utter disbelief, saying that's it? without actually saying anything, simply staring. His cheeks were hot; he felt feverish. He watched as Gerard didn't even take his shirt and picked the other one instead. What had all of this been about? Teasing, of course, but - argh. That had maybe gone a little too far.

"Didn't win anything," he mumbled, quickly rolling to the side, grabbing his shirt, and not yet buttoning his pants because...well. "You," he pointed his index at Gerard's face, "are fucking evil, man." He slipped off the bed. Literally slipped. Clutching the shirt. Well fuck, he was going to die of embarrassment. Spontaneously catch on fire and turn to ashes on the spot, maybe. "I - Wait for me downstairs. Yeah? I'll be there in a minute. Then. Waffles." He got up and dashed straight to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind him. He didn't move an inch until he heard Gerard's footsteps, confirming he was doing as he was told and going to wait elsewhere.

"_Holyfuckinghell_," he sighed, back pressed against the door. The situation was absolutely ridiculous and there was no way to save face now. None. Still, he didn't have many options - with Gerard being a goddamn cocktease, he'd just have to, erm, 'take the matter into his own hands'. Literally.

Once he was able to walk out of the bathroom and not look like the most depraved human being on the face of the planet (which took two minutes top with the kind of visual material he had, goddammit) he was faced with a dilemma. He could either a) laugh about it, even throw in a "well, Batman is always ready for action!" for good measure, or b) pretend he had spent the last three minutes washing his hands or gazing at the shower curtain or doing virtually anything but jerking off. He opted for the latter.

"M'sorry I made you wait, let's go." His face was purposely devoid of emotion; so was his tone. Otherwise, let's bet he would have looked and sounded downright mortified by the recent events.

**Pg 3. **


End file.
